


Camelot Actually

by harrysglasses



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Everyone works in an Ad Agency, F/M, Humour, Love Actually AU, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysglasses/pseuds/harrysglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the lead up to Christmas, the staff at Camelot Ad Agency overuse their email accounts, Morgana plays matchmaker and Arthur gets a new assistant who may or may not be exactly his type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camelot Actually

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on one of the storylines from Love Actually- no copyright infringement intended.

_ 5 weeks to Christmas… _

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Surprise_ __  
__  


_Arthur-just a heads up, expect a little surprise at your office on Monday morning. Love, M._

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: Surprise_ _  
_

_Morgana, what have I told you about singing telegrams, inappropriate magazines and other such nonsense in the office place. What ‘surprise’ exactly are you referring to? –A_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: Surprise_

_Calm down, brother dearest. What’s the point of working in an ad agency if we can’t have a little fun now and then? You’d think we worked in a law firm from the way you’re going on. –M_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: re: Surprise_

_You are head of human resources for god’s sake! Grow up._

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: re: re: Surprise_

_No, shan’t! Must dash, Leon and I are going to catch a movie. See you Monday! –M_

_-_

Arthur rounds the corner to his office tentatively on Monday morning, half expecting to see a troupe of male strippers or something equally embarrassing in his office. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his office space looking completely normal, the only difference being a small Christmas tree on his assistant’s desk. He enters his office, setting his takeaway coffee on his desk and switching on his computer.

Arthur is searching the desk for his daily stack of mail when he hears two knocks on his door. Before he can answer, it swings open and a head pops through.

“Hello, I’m Merlin!”

Arthur pauses, hand halfway to his coffee cup and answers after a pause.

“…I’m Arthur. And who might you be, Merlin?”

“Um, your new assistant?” Merlin steps into the office and Arthur gets a proper look at him. He is slim, with a head of messy dark hair, shockingly blue eyes, and frankly, the most _ridiculous_ cheekbones Arthur has ever seen.

“Well, there must be some mistake, because Cedric is my assistant,” Arthur says after tearing his eyes away from Merlin’s face.

“Okaayyy…It’s my first day and I don’t know anything about Cedric, only a lady named Morgana hired me two days ago,” Merlin replies. Before Arthur can say anything, Merlin hands him a stack of envelopes. “Here’s your mail.”

Arthur takes it wordlessly, and watches as Merlin exits his office, calling out “I’ll be at my desk!” over his shoulder.

-

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: What the hell?_

_Where is Cedric and who the hell is the hipster currently sitting at the desk outside my office? –A_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: What the hell?_

_Cedric quit unexpectedly last week and you’re welcome, by the way, for managing to find you a new assistant five bloody weeks before Christmas._

_p.s- I though hipster was your type?_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: What the hell?_

_So he just left, without even a goodbye?_

_p.s – I don’t have a ‘type’, thank you very much._

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: re: What the hell?_

_Why, Arthur, I had no idea you were so attached to your assistant. Merlin is lovely and he came with great references, I’m sure he will do a great job._

_p.s- You have to admit those cheekbones are something else._

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.ul_

_Subject: re: re: re: re: What the hell?_ _  
_

_Fine, but the next time I would like to interview and hire my own assistants._

_p.s- Shut up._

_-_

“-and I’ll prefer it if my mail is on my desk as soon as possible in the mornings,” Arthur finishes.

Merlin nods. “And how do you take your coffee?”

“Black, two sugars. I usually get it next door from Kiss Me-,”

“-I’m Irish Coffee? My roommate Gwaine owns that place!” Merlin beams.

Arthur raises his eyebrows. “And Gwaine must be the lovely chap who is always way too cheerful at 8am in the morning. I always wonder if he’s a morning person or just always drunk.”

Merlin laughs. “That’s Gwaine, he’s a fucking riot.” Merlin’s eyes widened and he claps his hands over his mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say fuck! And I’ve gone and done it again!”

Merlin flushes and all but runs out of Arthur’s office, mumbling something about going to answer the phone, which was not ringing.

Arthur supresses a smile and returns to his emails.

-

_From: kissmeimirish@mail.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Meeerrrlin im bored_

 

_So how goes your first day at work?  –Gwaine_

_-_

_From: merlinemrys@mail.co.uk_

_To: kissmeimirish@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: get back to work, you lazy arse_

 

_Great, so far I’ve said fuck in front of my new boss twice. Also, he gets coffee from your place and thinks you are a drunken Irishman._

_-_

_From: kissmeimirish@mail.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: No customers at 11am :(_

 

_I AM a drunken Irishman._

_p.s- it’s your turn to do dinner tonight._

_-_

_From: leonknight@camelot.co.uk_

_To:morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk; percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk; arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: lunch?_

_Anyone up for lunch at Kiss Me I’m Irish Coffee? There’s a steak and kidney pie special :)_

_-_

_From: percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk_

_To: leonknight@camelot.co.uk; morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk; arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: lunch?_

_I’m in. Should we ask along Lance and Gwen?_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: leonknight@camelot.co.uk; percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk; arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: lunch?_

_  
_ _No, it’ll be enough watching Percy check out ‘Mr. Irish McHottie’ (his words, not mine) without watching Lance and Gwen make puppy eyes at each other over the table. I swear, if those two don’t get together soon I’m going to have to do something drastic. –M_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: leonknight@camelot.co.uk; percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk; morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: lunch?_

_Sure, count me in. And really, Leon, does steak and kidney pie merit a smiley face?_

_-_

  _Four weeks to Christmas… _

_From: elenagawant@camelot.co.uk_

_To: All Staff_

_Subject: Christmas Party_

_  
_ _It is my delightful job as receptionist at Camelot Agency to organise our annual office Christmas party so here are the details for this year’s! Attendance is mandatory, or you’ll have to answer to Uther._

_Venue: Albion Art Gallery_

_Date: 19 th December _

_Time: 7pm onwards_

_Spouses/partners welcome, no kids please!_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: gwenthomas@camelot.co.uk_

_Cc: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Change of designer._

 

_Gwen, Leon has been pulled out of the Mercia account to work on another project. The only other graphic designer available is Lance, so you will continue work on Mercia with him instead._

_Hope that’s alright, I’m sure you two will do a great job together!_

_Morgana._

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Change of designer, my arse._

_  
_ _You crafty minx.-A_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: Change of designer, my arse._

_Just call me cupid. -M_

_-_

Arthur looks up from the new mock-ups Leon has sent for approval as Merlin enters his office. He sets down the familiar takeaway coffee cup stamped with a green shamrock on Arthur’s desk and balances a gingerbread man on top of it.

“Your coffee as requested, and a little something extra,” Merlin says with a grin. “Compliments of Gwaine.”

Arthur resists the urge to groan. Those cheekbones were one thing, but dimples too? Just plain unfair.

“Great, thank you Merlin. And tell Gwaine I said thanks too.” Arthur sets the gingerbread man carefully down on his desk and takes a long sip of coffee.

“And just to remind you of your appointment at two with a Mr. Valiant,” Merlin says.

“Ah, yes. New prospective client. If I land this deal it will be my father’s Christmas present for the next few years.”

Merlin smiles. “Well, good luck then.”

Arthur watches Merlin leave the office. “Damn, looks like I _do_ have a type,” he mutters to himself.

-

_ Three weeks to Christmas… _

__

_From: lancedulac@camelot.co.uk_

_To: gwenthomas@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Free Friday night?_

_  
_ _Hi Gwen,_

_I was wondering if you would like to get drinks after work this Friday? It’s not about work, just thought it would be nice to hang out outside the office._

_Lance_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: OMG_

_  
_ _Lance asked Gwen out!_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camlot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: OMG_

 

_MORGANA STOP HACKING INTO THE COMPANY EMAILS!_

_-_

“No, we’ve got to do this all over again, he doesn’t like them,” Arthur says, reaching for his mug to gulp down the last of his coffee.

Leon runs a hand through his curly hair. “This Valiant guy is a prick, Arthur, why do we even want his business?”

“Because if we sign this contract with his company, it’ll be one of our biggest accounts yet,” Arthur says and hits a button on his intercom. “Merlin, more coffee, please.”

“Leon is right. Valiant is horrible, not to mention completely unprofessional. He almost made Gwen cry when he called her illustrations ‘amateurish’,” Percy spoke up.

“Look, I know, but the arsehole is rich so I’m going to need you all to suck up to him like you’ve never sucked before,” Arthur replies, ignoring Percy’s snort. “And Perce, I’ll need you to re-write the whole campaign, he didn’t like that either.”

Percy curses as Merlin enters with three more coffee mugs. Arthur shoots him a grateful smile and the others thank him appreciatively.

“So, Morgana mentioned Merlin and Gwaine are roommates,” Percy says after Merlin leaves.

“Oh, on first name terms with, what was it, ‘Mr Irish McCoffee’, are we?” Arthur teases.

“It’s McHottie, actually,” Percival replies, “And he asked me out yesterday. We’re having dinner this weekend at the Rising Sun.”

“That cheesy medieval themed pub?” Arthur asks.

Percy grins sheepishly. “Yeah, apparently he lives on the same street as it.”

Leon slaps Percy on the back. “Nice one, mate! Speaking of dates, Arthur, when are you going to ask out that assistant of yours, who you’ve clearly been eyeing?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Leon, you may be my brother-in-law, but remember I still possess the ability to fire you.”

Leon holds up his hands. “Alright, alright. Let’s get back to this piece of shit campaign, then.”

-

_From: gwenthomas@camelot.co.uk_

_To: lancedulac@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: Free Friday night?_

 

_I would love to. :)_ _Gwen_

-

“Well, these look alright, I suppose,” Valiant says, studying the mock-up advertisements.

_Alright?_ Arthur screams in his head. _Those were some of Leon and Lance’s best work! Not to mention the all-nighters we pulled to get this done._

“Great!” Arthur pastes the biggest smile he can on his face. “We can go ahead and get the contract ready and signed before Christmas if you’d like-,”

“Whoa there, who said anything about signing? I’ll have a look at the contract with my lawyer and then we can discuss things further, Pendragon.” Valiant leans back in the chair with a smug grin.

Arthur resists the urge to strangle him and smiles tightly. “Of course. I’ll just head to Accounts and get a copy of the contract for you. Would you like something to drink, in the meantime?”

“Coffee. Espresso, if you have it. I hate that instant shit.”

Arthur closes his office door behind him, clenching his hands into murderous fists. He exhales deeply, silently cursing Valiant to hell and back.

Merlin turns at his desk. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m just going to see Vivian at Accounts, I’ll be back in a minute. And if you could get Valiant an espresso, that would be great,” Arthur replies.

“Okay,” Merlin says slowly, still looking at Arthur with concern.

Five minutes later Arthur opens the door to his office, contract in hand, just in time to see Valiant with one arm around Merlin’s waist, and Merlin emptying an espresso cup full of piping hot coffee onto Valiant’s crotch.

Arthur grins. Looks like Camelot Agency would not be needing Valiant’s business after all.

-

  _Two weeks to Christmas… _

 

_From: kissmeimrish@mail.co.uk_

_To: percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: ;)_

_  
_ _I had a great time last night. Dinner again this weekend? –G_

_-_

_From: leonknight@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: xmas_

 

_Hey, what did you get Morgana for Christmas?_

_Leon_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: leonknight@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: xmas_

 

_Haha, as if I’m telling! I know how hard she is to shop for. Good luck, mate._

_-_

Arthur looks away from his computer as he hears a soft knock on his door. Merlin comes in carrying a steaming mug and a small plate, a pile of mail and the day’s newspaper under his arm.

“Thanks,” Arthur says as Merlin sets down the mug and plate and hands him the mail.

“Homemade biscotti,” Merlin replies, gesturing to the plate. “Gwaine went on a baking rampage last night.”

“Looks great,” Arthur answers honestly.

Merlin hovers in front of Arthur’s desk and Arthur looks up at him from his mail. “Was there something else, Merlin?”

Merlin picks at the hem of his navy blue cardigan – _which brings out his eyes beautifully_ , Arthur notes absent-mindedly, then shakes his head and tears his gaze away, reaching for his mug of coffee.

“I just wanted to apologise – about Valiant,” Merlin blurts out. “It was all my fault, and now you’ve lost the deal-,”

“It’s fine,” Arthur interrupts gently. “Valiant was a complete idiot, and to be honest, we were all glad to see him go.”

“But it was such a big account and-,”

“Merlin,” Arthur says. “Please stop. We don’t need, or want, people like Valiant as clients. Stop beating yourself up.”

“Well…alright then. I’ll be outside,” Merlin says, and turns to leave.

“Merlin, wait,” Arthur calls out.

“Yes?”

Arthur stares at Merlin for a long moment, wanting to shout out all the thoughts running through his mind. _I think you’re beautiful. I wanted to kill Valiant for touching you. Will you have dinner with me?_

“Umm...nothing. I- I forgot what I wanted to say.” _Smooth, Arthur._

“Well, I should…get back to work,” Merlin says, gesturing towards his desk.

“Yes,” Arthur replies, clearing his throat and randomly shuffling a few papers around on his desk. He looks up as Merlin leaves and watches him through the glass front of his office. Gwen walks past and says something to Merlin, who laughs in reply. Arthur looks away from Merlin, still smiling from Gwen’s joke, and reaches for his keyboard. He pulls up his email and begins to type.

-

_From:_ _arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Confidential_

_  
_ _Morgana,_

_I’m asking this as a favour and would prefer it if no questions were asked._

_I’m requesting that Merlin be redistributed to another position within the company. He is a fine assistant but I feel it would be better if he served someone else._

_Thank you,_

_Arthur._

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: Confidential_

 

_Of course, Arthur. You’re in luck- Vivian’s assistant is just going on maternity leave and she needs a replacement._

_Everything okay? (That doesn’t count as a question.) I’m here to talk if you need to._

_-M_

_-_

_From: percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk_

_To: kissmeimirish@mail.co.uk_

_Subject: re: ;)_

 

_I had a great time too. Would love to have dinner again. Saturday, Bella Italia at 7?_

_Percy_

__

_ One Week to Christmas… _

_From: elenagawant@camelot.co.uk_

_To: All Staff_

_Subject: Reminder- Christmas Party_

 

_Hi All,_

_Just a reminder to put on your festive best and come along to the Christmas Party tomorrow night! 7pm at Albion Art Gallery._

_p.s- In answer to all your questions- yes, there will be an open bar._

_-_

Arthur glances up at the clock, surprised to see it is already 6.30pm. The office is dark and deserted, most of the staff having already left for the party. Arthur sighs and stands, stretching out his back and arms. There is a single knock at his door and Morgana pokes her head in, grins and enters. She is wearing a short, black dress with a sparkly collar and obscenely high heels.

“Thought I might find you here, Mr Workaholic,” she says, sprawling elegantly into one of the chairs in front on Arthur’s desk.

“Just had to finish up some things for the Mercia account,” Arthur replies, unbuttoning and shrugging out of his work shirt. He heads over to the door and unzips the garment bag hanging there. “Where’s Leon?”

“Told him to head over to the gallery without me,” Morgana says, fiddling with the pen holder on the desk.

Arthur pulls out a fresh shirt and puts it on. His fingers pause on the buttons when Morgana asks, “How’s the new assistant working out?”

“Mithian is lovely,” Arthur replies, “She’s doing a good job.”

“As good as Merlin?”

“Morgana…” Arthur says in a warning tone. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright, alright.” Morgana is silent for a few moments before she mutters, “But I don’t think running away from your feelings is the solution.”

Arthur pretends not to hear her as he puts on his coat.

-

“Oh, look, there’s Mr Black Two Sugars,” Gwaine says, gesturing across the dance floor.

Merlin looks up to see Arthur and Morgana enter the gallery, then head towards the bar where their father is sitting.

“God, he really is hot, isn’t he?” Gwaine says, eyeing Arthur as he walks past.

Merlin scowls at his roommate. “Why are you here again?”

“Percy brought me as his plus-one,” Gwaine replies, taking a swig of his beer. “And forgive me, but it’s not a crime to check out attractive blonds, speaking of which…”

Percy comes up to them, reaching out for Gwaine’s hand. “Wanna dance?”

Gwaine grins. “Love to.” He holds out his beer for Merlin to take and lets Percy drags him onto the dance floor.

Merlin chuckles and shakes his head. He takes a sip of Gwaine’s beer and looks around the room. The party is being held in a spacious art gallery that is currently exhibiting a whole bunch of abstract paintings on glass, suspended from the ceilings.

_Probably not the safest in a room full of people with an open bar_ , Merlin thinks as he wanders over to the other side of the gallery to examine the art more closely.

He peers through one of the paintings, a huge sheet of glass half covered in purple sploshes of paint, and suddenly finds himself looking at Arthur, who is standing a few paintings away. Arthur catches his eye and smiles slightly, lifting his bottle of beer in greeting. Merlin does the same, then turns away, hiding behind one of the purple sploshes.  He exhales slowly. _Damn it, he really is hot._

_-_

_From: percivaljeffries@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Unable to work today_

_  
_ _Due to sickness, I will not be coming into work today. Apologies._

_-_

_From: elenagawant@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Leave of absence_ _  
_

_Hi Morgana,_

_Sorry, I won’t be coming into work today because of personal reasons._

_Elena._

_-_

_From: vivianking@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Requesting leave_

 

_Apologies, Morgana, will not be in today due to family issues. -Viv_

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: All Staff_

_Subject: No excuses_

 

_To All Staff at Camelot Agency-_

_I don’t care what creative excuse you’ve made up, if I don’t see your hungover arse in the office today, you can kiss your Christmas bonus goodbye._

_Morgana_

_P.S- Elena, I told you an open bar was a bad idea._

_-_

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: we need new staff_

_Seriously, are we the only two at work today???_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: we need new staff_

_No, I saw Lance and Gwen around here somewhere, and I know Leon is in, because I saw him asleep at the photocopier._

-

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: re: re: we need new staff_

_  
_ _Leon is in only because I dragged him out of bed this morning. Lunch later at Kiss Me I’m Irish? –M_

_-_

_ Christmas Eve… _

 

Arthur pulls his laptop towards him across the coffee table, flipping it open and turning it on. His television is on, playing some old Doctor Who Christmas special, and his tree is twinkling merrily in the corner. It all looks very festive but Arthur doesn’t feel it at all. He’s off work for the next two days and usually he loves this time of the year, but somehow he can’t shake the thought of Merlin from his mind.

It has been two weeks since Merlin was transferred over to Vivian- two weeks of Arthur avoiding Merlin in the office entirely to escape an awkward conversation. And then Merlin had to go and look so fucking edible at the Christmas party- all artfully tousled hair, and those damned skinny jeans- that when Arthur had been caught staring at him through those ridiculous glass paintings, all he could to was smile and wave like an idiot.

Arthur sighs and opens up his email, scrolling mindlessly through junk mail and Christmas wishes from various acquaintances and obscure family members.  He is about to close the window when he catches sight of Merlin’s name on an unread email sent a few hours ago. He clicks it open and a colourful, animated sequence plays on his screen, featuring two gingerbread men soaking themselves in a Jacuzzi full of hot chocolate. A bright banner unfurls, flashing the words ‘Happy Christmas!’, while _Jingle Bells_ play from his speakers.

Arthur scrolls down and reads the message under the animation.

_Dear Arthur,_

_Merry Christmas and I hope you have a very happy new year. I’m sorry if I did anything wrong to make you transfer me, although I am enjoying working for Vivian- she’s a laugh (don’t tell her I said that, though). But I thought that I should tell you (because if you can’t say it during Christmas, then when can you?) that I’m actually yours. Sorry if I’m sounding completely crazy- it might be Gwaine’s mulled wine and the constant re-watching of cheesy Christmas-themed romantic comedies that’s talking._

_Anyway, I’ll stop now._

_Merlin xx_

Arthur leans back onto the couch, feeling quite dazed. Matt Smith is doing something funny with fish and sharks on his television screen, and everything feels a little like it’s in slow motion. Arthur shakes his head, re-reads Merlin’s email, then feels a wide grin spread across his face. He snaps his laptop close, jumps up from the couch and runs to the front door, grabbing his keys and coat.

-

“What am I doing out on some dodgy street on the night before Christmas, when it is minus ridiculous degrees out?” Morgana asks, pulling her fur-lined hood tighter around her face.

“Because I don’t have a car, and you and Leon do,” Arthur murmurs distractedly as he squints intently at the GPS on his mobile phone. “Okay, the Rising Sun is on the corner of two streets, so it’s got to be either this one, or the next.”

Morgana rolls her eyes. “Next time when you decide to make some grand declaration of love, please don’t involve us. I’ll be in the car, with the heater.”

She turns and gets into the silver Fiat that is rolling slowly along the sidewalk, Leon at the wheel. Arthur takes a deep breath and approaches the first house on Ealdor Road. He rings the doorbell and an elderly man answers a few moments later.

“Hello!” Arthur says brightly, trying to look friendly and not at all like a complete creep. “Does Merlin live here, by any chance?”

“No, and I’m not interested in buying any of your products, young man,” the man replies and closes the door in Arthur’s face.

Arthur heads back down to the sidewalk, ignoring Morgana and Leon’s laughs.

“Mate, are you sure you want to do this? There are an awful lot of houses on this street,” Leon calls out helpfully from inside the car.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Arthur replies, bracing himself for the next house.

This time, the door is answered by a little boy and girl, both dressed in pyjamas and Santa hats. Arthur smiles and hopes he doesn’t get arrested for being a public nuisance on Christmas Eve.

“Hello, does Merlin live here?”

“No, sir,” the boy replies as his sister asks, “Are you here to sing carols?”

“Well, no-,” Arthur starts.

“Oh, please, sir, pleeaaseee!” they chorus, and Arthur looks back at the car, where Morgana looks ecstatic and Leon has pulled out his camera phone.

Arthur clears his throat uncomfortably. “Well, um—okay.” He still has _Jingle Bells_ stuck in his head from Merlin’s email, so he gets through one verse of that while the children dance along.

They applaud when he finishes, and Arthur hears Morgana and Leon clapping and cat-calling from the car as well. Face flaming, Arthur smiles at the kids as they thank him politely and close the door.

Arthur resolutely ignores Morgana and Leon, and the fact that Leon has recorded every mortifying second on his phone, the bastard, as he walks to the next house.

Merlin doesn’t live there, or the next one, or the next.

Arthur makes his way determinedly down Ealdor Road, with Morgana and Leon tailing him in their car, periodically offering him hot chocolate from the thermos they’ve brought along. There are five more houses left on the street, and Arthur thinks he might give up after he reaches the end of the road, and try the next street tomorrow. He rings the doorbell and a pretty, young girl answers.

“Good evening, does Merlin live here?” Arthur asks, plastering a charming smile on his face.

“No, he doesn’t,” she answers, and he heaves a sigh. “He lives next door,” she continues, and smiles as she closes the door.

Arthur walks down her steps slowly, then up the path to the next house. He takes a deep breath and brings up a hand to knock. He isn’t sure what he is going to do, or say, just that he needed to see Merlin and possibly snog the hell out of him.

He knocks on the door firmly, and no one answers for a few moments although there are scuffling sounds behind it. Arthur waits, shuffling his feet nervously and rubbing his hands together for warmth, and suddenly the door swings open, and he is met with a scene of chaos and too many faces.

A narrow entry hall, bedecked in tinsel and filled with the sound of Mariah Carey singing _All I Want for Christmas Is You_ , is filled with people.  Gwaine, the barista from Kiss Me I’m Irish, is the one who answers the door, and is standing with one hand on the doorknob and the other holding a mobile to his ear, talking a mile a minute. There is a brunette man pulling on a scarf and a slender girl with long black hair halfway up the stairs, calling up to somebody. They all look at Arthur expectantly.

“Hi, I’m looking for Merlin-,”

“Hey, we almost ready to go?”

Arthur blinks as Percival appears from a side room and slings an arm around Gwaine. “Percy?”

“Arthur!” Percy looks at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur starts to answer but the words die in his mouth as Merlin comes barrelling down the stairs with an armful of presents, saying, “Where the fuck did you put my coat, Freya?”

Everyone turns to look at Merlin now, who looks up towards the door and meet Arthur’s eyes. A faint blush spreads across his pale cheeks and he hands the presents to the girl- Freya, Arthur assumes, and heads down the rest of the stairs.

“Hi,” Merlin says, coming to the door. He drops his voice to an undertone. “Are you here to fire me?”

“No,” Arthur replies. “Um- I got your email, and I was just wondering if we could talk? Alone, maybe?”

Merlin looks around. “Could you give us a minute, guys?”

Gwaine ushers the others into the side room, still talking into his mobile, and closes the door behind him.

Merlin looks sheepish. “Sorry, my roommates- and Percy, by extension- they’re a nosy bunch. Chances are they’ve all got their ears pressed up against the door.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t talk,” Arthur says and gestures behind him, where he knows Leon and Morgana are possibly doing the same against their car window.

Merlin peers over his shoulder. “You’ve brought your sister…and Leon?”

Arthur shrugs. “Impossible to get a cab on the night of Christmas Eve, and they have a car.”

“So-,” Merlin looks at him expectantly. “You wanted to talk?”

“Well, your email-,” Arthur begins, and he smiles as Merlin starts to blush again, looking ridiculously adorable.

“I know, I’m sorry, it was stupid, I know. It’s just- I was watching all these movies, and Gwaine kept plying me with wine, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your perfect hair and-,”

“Merlin,” Arthur says softly, and there was nothing left to do but pull Merlin in by his collar and kiss him.

Merlin makes a small sound of surprise, but deepens the kiss and steps a little nearer to Arthur, who drops his hands to Merlin’s waist and pulls him in closer still.

“Oi, you two, figured it out yet? We have dinner reservations!” Gwaine’s voice floats out from behind the door.

They pull apart and Merlin makes a face, mumbling “Sorry.” Arthur laughs.

“I just- I had no idea you felt the same way,” Merlin says.

Arthur grins. “Are you kidding? That first day you came into my office, I took one look at you and I knew I was –,” _Yours_ , Arthur thinks, but that’s what Merlin had said in his email and Arthur isn’t going to _copy_ , he’s creative director of an ad agency, for Christ’s sake-, “Gone. Completely and utterly.”

Merlin smiles widely, and there were those damn dimples again, Arthur thinks distractedly. He could definitely get used to seeing them every day.

-

_From: morganapendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Happy Christmas!_

 

_I trust you had a very good night with a certain someone, brother dear? ;)_

_Anyway, thank you for the spa vouchers, they are perfect. Leon got me a set of kitchen knives, can you believe that man? Honestly._

_See you at mine tonight! Dinner at 7. Love, M_

_P.S- Merlin is more than welcome to come along :)_

_-_

_From: freya_hunter@mail.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: merry xmas_

 

_I’m guessing by the fact you didn’t come home last night means everything is going swimmingly with Arthur?_

_Just a heads up for when you do get home, Will is in a hideous mood and won’t stop complaining about how Gwaine and Percival were apparently being ‘very loud’ in Gwaine’s room last night. I mean, what did he expect? Told him to sleep downstairs on the couch if it bothers him that much._

_See you soon!  -F_

_p.s- I sincerely hope your company doesn’t screen these emails._

_-_

_ New Year’s Eve… _

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Be there soon_

 

_Sorry- had to stay back at work to finish up something, I’ll be there in the next hour. Save me some of Gwaine’s legendary punch! xx A_

_-_

_From: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Party’s in full swing!_

 

_I guess I should count myself lucky I’m no longer your assistant then, you over-worker. Hurry, if you’re not here soon, I’ll have to kiss Freya at midnight._

_p.s- The punch is going fast!_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Any cute guys?_

 

_Don’t you dare- I’m the only one you better be kissing tonight, Merlin._

_-_

_From: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: There’s ONE._

 

_Hmmm…well, it’s lucky you’re so good at it. –M_

_-_

_From: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_To: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Does he answer to Merlin?_

 

_Kissing’s not the only thing I’m good at. I’ll prove it to you later ;)_

_-_

_From: merlinemrys@camelot.co.uk_

_To: arthurpendragon@camelot.co.uk_

_Subject: Get your arse here, Pendragon!_

_I’ll hold you to that._

_-_

The End!

 


End file.
